Reminders
by Jenny70529
Summary: I never thought we'd be called to the home of one of our own.' The team must handle a very personal case, during which each member realizes what they could have lost, what they still may lose.
1. Family

_**These characters do not belong to me, although I'd love to own them! **_

_**I know it's been ages since I've updated any of my stories, and I apologize deeply for that. It's been one crazy, hectic summer. My small, vulnerable state has suffered from two serious hurricanes, the second of which destroyed my home and the majority of my possessions. For the last three weeks, I've been struggling to keep my sanity, find a place to live (because my brother won't keep me forever), stay caught up with work and school, and somewhere in there, remind my daughter that I haven't abandoned her. **_

**_Things seem to be coming together, I got a call on an apartment today, and I've managed to buy enough essentials with my company's generosity to begin to start over. And, for the first time since the first hurricane hit on August 29th, I've managed a single, solitary quiet shift at work, allowing me enough free time to not only handle personal business, but leave a few hours to daydream and come up with this story idea. _**

_**You guys have NO idea how therapeutic this is for me, I feel so relaxed now that I can torture someone more than I feel tortured (lol, just kidding). My personal computer has been destroyed, and now that I'm not living with my brother I won't have his computer at my disposal, so I'll probably finish this up this weekend at work (It's only a three-parter) and then I'll try to work on my older, neglected stories. I don't know if I'll be able to get into that mindset again, I hardly even feel like the same person I was in July, but I'll give it my best. **_

_**Please let me know what you think, if anyone is interested I'll post a second part of this tomorrow or Sunday. **_

_**Jenny**_

_**Reminders:**_

_**Chapter One: Family**_

_**I never thought we'd be called to the home of one of our own. Although I knew that danger lurked everywhere, assaulting even the kindest and conscientious hearts, it never really sank in that any of us could be violated off the job. When working, we were aware that accidents happen, that anything can go wrong at any moment. We're prepared to take that challenge. We also know that the possibility of being attacked exists on every street corner of Vegas. We've seen that first hand. We just never thought it would cross our path, invade our home, incapacitate one of us. We felt like we were invincible. We were wrong. **_

_**When one of our own fall prey to an accident or crime, everything changes. The case is no longer just a case, it becomes more personal and painful than even our most trying scenarios. There are no witty and sarcastic comments, no ice-breaking and stress-relieving quips to lessen the tension, only silence as we give the case 110 percent of our dedication. **_

_**Today we would see just how far we could bend before we would break. Today was another challenge to see if our team would survive another brutal attack. From the moment we walked into the locker room, the air was thick with tension. I hadn't even had a chance to slip on my vest when my supervisor's voice filled the air, "Everyone grab your kits and meet me in the parking lot, ASAP."**_

"_**What do we have?" One of my coworkers asked, I'm not even sure who it was, because the moment I heard the pained voice utter the instructions, I knew this case was different from the rest. **_

"_**Shouldn't we wait for--?" Another voice began, confusion clouding his voice.**_

_**The response was short and hard, "No. Hurry it up, the scene isn't going to process itself."**_

_**I was instantly reminded of the last case that had him so tense and edgy. Looking over my shoulder, I flashed a brief smile to the young Texan standing at his own locker, knowing I was unable to keep the sadness out of my eyes. The worried expression he wore mirrored my own concern. One member of our makeshift family was in trouble, and looking around the locker room, it could only be one of two people. Of those two people, only one could have upset him this much. I could only pray I was wrong. **_

_**My fears were confirmed when we arrived at the normally quiet, small apartment complex a few miles away, now alive with sirens and lights. Sure enough, we walked up to Brass just in time to see the pale brunette being wheeled on a stretcher towards the waiting ambulance, an entourage of paramedics at her side. **_

"_**What happened, Jim?" I asked, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice as I heard the men at my side gasp, "What's going on?"**_

"_**One of the neighbors heard a crash, and went outside to investigate. He saw a hooded figure running from Sara's apartment, leaving the door wide open. The neighbor walked in, saw the destruction, and used Sara's phone to call 911. He found her in her bedroom, my guys showed up moments after the paramedics."**_

_**Grissom spoke quietly, clearing his throat to conceal his cracking voice, "What did the paramedics say? Is she going to be okay?"**_

"_**She lost consciousness shortly after I arrived, she was unable to speak, and seemed to be having trouble breathing. They were giving her artificial respiration when they loaded her up."**_

"_**I'll go to the hospital." I offered, my voice sounding surprisingly strong, despite the nervousness I felt. **_

_**As soon as I spoke, I could see the suspicion in everyone's gaze. Sara and I were known for not getting along well, for starting trouble with each other. Guilt flooded through the pit of my stomach as I realized how we had never really made peace with each other, only learned to avoid one another to keep things civil. There was so much I didn't know about her, so much I wanted to know, so many things I wanted to say. Even though it was extremely selfish, I wanted to be the first person who got to see her, only to make amends. **_

_**It had been a wake-up call when Nick had been kidnaped. I had suddenly realized just how dangerous our jobs were, moreso than when he had been stalked, moreso than when Holly Gribbs had been shot. Right now, though, to go in with the knowledge that she had not been on duty, not even on call, and had still been a victim made my heart plummet into my stomach. Life was too short to hold petty grudges, to dislike someone for some unknown reason, perhaps just because that's what we had grown accustomed to. I needed to make things right, and until I did, I would feel like a traitor working her case. **_

"_**I'm not going to hurt her, I just think she should have a woman present...they're going to have to do a...well,...a..."**_

"_**A rape kit." Warrick supplied, when I was unable to bring myself to utter those two horrible words. My stomach churned as I realized what I had just said was a definite possibility. If some man had violated her, sexually, she would have such a hard time recovering. Rapes and abuse cases haunt her the most, and if she fell victim to one of those sick bastards, she would be broken.**_

_**Grissom motioned for me to follow him away from the others, and once we were out of earshot, he said softly, "Catherine, I don't have to tell you how important it is that you get any evidence off of her. As soon as you know something, give us a call. You may want to call in Greg to help out, bring anything you retrieve back to the lab. It's his night off, but he'd probably want to be part of this."**_

"_**Definitely." I replied, already dreading that phone call. Sara and Greg were very close, as close as Warrick and I had been before his impromptu wedding. This news would devastate him. **_

_**I slid into the driver's seat of my Tahoe, putting my key in the ignition with a worried sigh. I had to be strong for the others, I was the one with the least amount of emotional attachment to Sara, I owed it to them to be strong and level headed. The drive to the hospital seemed to fly by, and when I pulled into a parking space, I realized I didn't remember driving there at all. I stepped out of the car, my body and mind numb as the reality of this situation sank deeper and deeper in. **_

_**I walked into the emergency room, relief flooding through me when I recognized the on call doctor as an ex of mine. I took a short minute to thank God that I had ended things on a good note with him. I took a deep, steadying breath before striding over to him. **_

"_**Timothy."**_

"_**Catherine."**_

"_**A colleague of mine, Sara Sidle, was just brought in via ambulance. I need to see her."**_

_**Timothy shook his head, and I felt the sudden urge to strangle him. Didn't he understand what I was going through? Didn't he understand that I needed to see her, and I needed to see her this instant? What was going on through his pea-sized brain? **_

"_**I can't let you in there just yet, Catherine, we're still stabilizing her. We called in a gastric specialist as well as a respiratory specialist. She's got some serious internal damage, but she's in good hands."**_

_**My eyes narrowed suspiciously as worry flooded through my already weary body, calling in a specialist so soon was always a bad sign. "Tell me everything."**_

"_**Paramedics report that she was having severe difficulty breathing when they arrived on the scene, as well as difficulty communicating. Her eyes are bloodshot, and by visual observation they recorded several burns on her skin resembling chemical burns. We tried to intubate her when she was brought in, but there is a significant deal of swelling in her mouth and throat. She's been constantly vomiting, there has been a great deal of blood in her vomit, and even with assisted breathing, we're having a hard time getting her respiratory rate up."**_

_**He paused, probably to allow me to ask questions, but I couldn't form a coherent sentence. Things did not sound good, not even slightly. After a few moments, the professional side of me started to speak, and I said with a weak voice, "I need a sample of her stomach contents, a written report on her condition, her clothing, and any personal items. What do you suspect is the cause of her illness?"**_

"_**We're suspecting some sort of chemical ingestion. The insides of her mouth and throat are severely damaged and burned. The vomiting and burning are common for household chemicals. How is her mental stability? Is it possible she tried to commit suicide?"**_

"_**No!" I exclaimed, overly loud and defensively, attracting the attention of a few onlookers, "Sara is not that type of person. There is no way she tried to kill herself, there's got to be another way. What are her chances? When can we see her? What are you going to do next?"**_

_**Timothy rubbed his forehead, and I immediately recognized that as one of his nervous habits. My eyes narrowed, and he said gently, as if he was about to break some really bad news to me, "We've pumped her stomach and we're trying to flush her system out. We're not going to be able to continue bagging her, so after we're sure whatever she ingested his flushed out of her system, we're probably going to put her on a respirator. We're hoping that as we flush out the toxins, her breathing will return to normal, or at least stabilize. We've done all we can for the burns, we're applying a salve to minimize scaring. It's touch and go right now, we won't know more until we're able to survey damage to internal organs. She's unconscious right now, but she should be awake when we move her to a room. You should be able to see her in a few hours. Have a seat, I'll come and get you if there are any changes."**_

_**Timothy walked away and my legs began to violently shake, giving me only a few seconds before they completely gave way, sending me collapsing into an uncomfortable plastic chair. I knew I should call Grissom and the boys, but as Timothy's words rang through my ears, all I could do was cry. **_

_**Gradually, my tears ceased and I began to compose myself. Just as I was about to call Grissom and tell him what I knew, Timothy reappeared. My heart stopped and my stomach sank at the nervous expression on his face. With a gentle voice, he knelt down in front of me, "Catherine, I'm sorry."**_

_**TBC**_


	2. Survivor

_Thank you to everyone to offered their prayers and support, it means a lot to me. Another slow day at work, another chapter for your reading pleasure. I didn't get as far with this chapter as I wanted to, and there's not very much action, but it's going to move faster in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think, and if you want me to continue. _

_Thank you to everyone who replied in the last chapter, it's motivation to write faster._

_Jenny_

_**Chapter Two: Survivor**_

I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through my body, leaving me woozy as Timothy knelt before me. "What is it?"

"We had to move Sara to ICU, the damage is a lot worse than we initially assumed. Whatever she ingested was extremely strong. Our internal specialists are finding it miraculous that she's even alive. Even after we flushed her system, the decomposition of her tissues is continuing. Until we find a way to stop that decomposition, we can't even guarantee she will make it through the night."

The severity of the situation hit me when he uttered that last sentence, and for a second I was sure I was going to pass out. Instead, I clenched my fists and forced myself to remain professional and rational, "What are you giving her for the tissue damage?"

"We tried to neutralize the acid with a strong base solution, a cocktail we usually use to treat our overdose patients, but she's not reacting to it right now. Basic chemistry, if we can neutralize the acid, the internal reaction will stop. We're worried that the damage is already too extensive to repair. I'll be honest with you Catherine," He paused for a moment, as if he was trying to come up with the right words to cushion the next blow, "This is unlike anything we've ever seen. Unless we find out what she ingested, there's no guarantee we will be able to fix the problem."

I stood quickly, whipping out my cell phone, "I'm on it," I looked back at Timothy and gave him a soft smile, "Thank you for taking such good care of her."

"Just doing my job, Catherine." Timothy replied before walking off.

Just as I was about to speed dial Grissom, my phone rang, startling me so much that I nearly dropped the phone.

"Willows."

"It's Grissom."

He sounded awful. I always knew Sara meant a lot to him, but only now was it really sinking in just how much he cared for her.

"Hey, I was just about to call you. She swallowed some sort of chemical solution, we don't know what it is, and they can't really treat her until they know. Have you guys found anything that she may have taken?"

"We found a glass containing an unidentifiable liquid. Nick brought it back to the lab to get it traced. The perpetrator must have forced her to drink it, it had a strong odor, there's no way she was just slipped something. We've found a lot of prints, as well as blood. We're hoping it's the attacker's." He paused for a moment before asking in a worried voice, "So how is she? Really?"

I took a deep, steadying breath and tried to keep the emotion out of my voice. I had to be the strong one, in case everyone else fell apart. "It's not good Gil. They aren't sure if she's going to make it, you guys may want to get down here when you're finished up there."

"After we're finished collecting evidence, we're going to turn it over to Days to process it, and we'll all meet you there. What have the doctors said? What more can you tell me?"

It broke my heart to hear the fear masked behind his attempt at a collected tone, and I desperately wanted to protect him from the bad news I had to share. Taking a steadying breath, I replied in what I hoped was a soothing voice, "Don't worry about that right now. Just finish up over there and get down here. She needs you."

I ended the call, dialing a familiar number. He picked up after 4 rings, his voice thick with sleepiness and confusion, "Sanders."

"Hey Greg, it's Catherine. I'm sorry to wake you up, but you need to meet me at Desert Palm, ASAP." I paused for a second, steadying my shaking insides before adding, "It's Sara."

Just over an hour later, our whole team was gathered in the waiting room, hoping for some sort of miracle to occur. Timothy had not been back out to give us an update on Sara's condition, and not hearing anything was driving me crazier than hearing bad news. The fear of the unknown had always been one of my greatest fears.

I had been resting with my head on my knees, my knees drawn up to my chest to relieve the ungodly pressure building up in my back from these miserable plastic chairs. The sound of Nick pacing around the waiting room had been ringing through my ears, irritating me to the point where I was ready to either yell at him to sit down and shut up or stick my fingers in my ears like Lindsey used to do when she was a child and didn't like what she was being told.

I looked up, though, as the awful noise stopped and the room once again grew silent. Nick was now standing at the window, staring out with tears glistening in his eyes. He and Sara were like brother and sister, they argued over petty things and always had to out-compete each other, but it was obvious they cared about each other very deeply. If I wasn't so emotionally exhausted, I would have walked over to him and tried to offer him some comfort.

Instead, I let my eyes wander around the rest of the room, a familiar sense of deja vu filling my soul. We had been in this same waiting room less than a year earlier, except that time Sara had been the one staring out the window while we waited to hear about Nick's condition. Of course, then, we knew he wasn't going to die, we were just waiting to see just how bad off he was. We had been anxious to see him, our hearts broken for everything he had gone through over a night-long ordeal. Then, it had been Warrick who was beating himself up the most, the person who needed to be reassured and comforted. Tonight, it was Grissom, the one person that was nearly impossible to comfort.

Grissom had spent a few minutes sitting across from me, listening to me repeat every single word Timothy had told me, then he had abruptly stood and walked over to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup of stale coffee and staring into the black liquid, slowly building up the wall that had began to crumble as I filled him in. A few moments later, his expression was unreadable, once again, and he sat down beside Greg, who had been the only man openly crying.

Greg had arrived in record time, leading me to wonder just how many laws he had broken to get him to the hospital so quickly. I filled him on what Timothy had told me, and as soon as I was finished, he disappeared for nearly half an hour. I assumed he wanted to be alone, but before the others arrived, he confided that he tracked down Timothy to grill him about Sara. Right then and there, I realized that Greg had grown up quite a bit. He was no longer the hyperactive, ridiculously funny lab tech that we had all labeled him as so many years ago. He was now one of us, able to march in and take charge, able to keep his head on straight until he had all of the facts. As he sat down on the opposite side of the room, I was able to see just how much he had grown up, his age was now visible on his face, lines of worry more readily visible on the face of someone who has seen destruction and devastation and has been able to push forward despite it. I was so proud of him for fighting for, and reaching, the goals he had set for himself. I had enough respect for him to pretend like I didn't see the tears staining his cheeks, like I didn't hear his quiet sniffles. He was doing the one thing I wouldn't allow myself to do in front of other people, cry.

Warrick had been the last one to join our group in the waiting room. Greg and Nick had been quick to jump on him and accuse him of not caring, but Grissom and I had both silenced them before they could say things they would later regret. We knew Warrick cared for Sara, despite the friction between them years ago when she first started working on our team. I was envious by their friendship, and at the same time, sickened. She had been brought in to investigate him. She investigated him later on that year. Yet, despite this, they had been able to create a steady, strong friendship, when she and I had been unable to.

After Nick and Greg cooled down a bit, Warrick revealed that he had been talking to his wife (it still pained me to call her that) and she was going to see what she could find out about Sara's condition. Greg and Nick uttered unemotional apologies for jumping on him, but Warrick waved them off and sat down next to me, the silence between the two of us comforting, whereas with the others it had been painful.

My thoughts were interrupted when a doctor walked over to us, a grim expression on his face. Looking at the clock, I realized Timothy was probably off by now. The doctor walked over to our group, and we all moved in together so we could listen, and interrogate, the man in front of us.

"Sara's condition is still deteriorating, although we've been able to slow down the tissue degeneration quite a bit." He began, and I felt the world tilt slightly, causing me to lean into Warrick for support. He wrapped an arm around me tightly, and I tried to focus on what the doctor was telling us, although his terminology was more complex than Timothy had used earlier.

What I understood, however, painted a bleak enough picture to know what was going on. Permanent tissue damage and scaring, internal bleeding, fever, shock. Once again, my legs gave way and I melted into the chair I had been sitting in for several hours already, my head buried in my hands. I hated myself for beginning to fall apart, I needed to be the strong one. I was supposed to be the detached one. We weren't even friends. I exhaled deeply, trying to control my emotions. Sara may not have been my friend, but she was part of our family. Part of our family that we may be about to lose.

I didn't notice when the doctor walked away, or when Warrick disappeared to find his wife to see if one of us could see Sara. I didn't notice Greg's hasty exit, or Nick begin to crumble. When I was finally able to focus, I was sitting across from Grissom, who held his face in his hands, suddenly looking twice his age.

"She's a fighter, Gil." I said in a voice that I could barely recognize, "She's going to be okay, if not only because she wants to nail the guy that did this to her. Sara doesn't give up."

He looked up at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen, and my heart broke. He may not show his emotions often, but when he does, they are remarkable. I could see straight into his soul at this moment, and all I was able to see was a wounded, broken little boy, lost and frightened. I shakily walked over to him, pulling him into a hug, surprised to see he didn't refuse. If he was crumbling already, I couldn't bear to imagine what he would be like if she didn't make it.

I held him for a few minutes, until Warrick's voice broke us apart, "Neil, from days, is here to bring back evidence collected from Sara."

"Call us when you know something, okay?" Grissom sternly asked the young CSI, "Your shift and my shift are working in conjunction on this case, don't leave us out of the loop."

"Of course, Mr. Grissom, as soon as we know something we'll give you a call."

A doctor walked back towards us with a brown paper bag, holding everything we had requested on Sara. Handing it to Neil, I gave him one of my 'death glares' as Warrick calls them, and remind him again to call us as soon as he knows something. He hurried away, probably scared by the no-nonsense vibes Grissom and I were sending him, and when I looked at Grissom again, he had carefully restructured the wall that keeps the rest of us away from him. Fighting fresh tears, I stood and walked over to the window, staring down over the busy streets of Las Vegas. It was supposed to be a city of glamour, lights, money, alcohol, and a constant party. When did I start looking at my city as a place where people are robbed, raped, and murdered? Where danger looks on every corner, behind every bush?

I looked at my watch, cursing softly, "I need to go home and have breakfast with Lindsey." I said to Grissom, "I promised her I would."

I hated myself for leaving Sara and the rest of my team when we desperately needed to be together. I hated myself for wanting to stay instead of spending time with my daughter. I hated myself for actually contemplating staying. Shaking my head, I grabbed my purse and tiredly walked towards the elevator. I was exhausted, it's so much more emotionally trying when you know the victim, when you care for them. A few strong cups of coffee, an hour with Lindsey, and then I'd come back a new woman, ready to be tough, ready to be the strength for our team. Right now, I was useless.

I walked towards the elevator with a sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach, and I feared I was making the wrong choice. Brushing it off as paranoia, I made my way towards the elevator, praying I wouldn't get a phone call saying my colleague had passed away, praying that I'd wake up to find this just a dream, not a real-life nightmare.

What I didn't expect was to get a phone call halfway home. Fear seized my insides as I fumbled with my cell phone, "Willows."

"Potassium Arsenate."

"Excuse me?" I asked, my mind trying to decipher what Grissom was talking about.

"Potassium Arsenate. That is what Sara ingested. I want you to get me all of the information you can find on it, ASAP."

Before he even finished his instructions, I had turned my car around and backtracked towards the lab. I could have breakfast with Lindsey tomorrow, or even dinner with her tonight. Right now, my other family needed me. Hanging up with Grissom, I called my mother to let her know I wouldn't be able to make it home. By the time I reached the lab, the fatigue that had set in was now a distant memory, and by the time I loaded up the books in my car, I finally felt like we were getting somewhere. We may not know who hurt her, but if we knew what he hurt her with, it was a step closer to getting the answers we needed.

**TBC**


	3. Confessions

_Chapter Three: Confessions_

_Time seemed to have stopped completely the minute Nick and Warrick walked behind the curtain to Sara's bed. It wasn't as if I was jealous that they got to see her before me, I knew they were closer to her than I had been. It wasn't that I was upset that I was the last to see her (Greg and Grissom had gone in first). It wasn't even that I wanted to see her in her present condition. Sure, I had some things I needed to say to her, but seeing the expression on Greg and Gil's faces when they walked out of ICU scared me enough to be apprehensive about seeing her._

_After what seemed like ages, a pale Nick and a visibly upset Warrick pulled back the curtain and made a hasty exit, neither acknowledging my presence. I fought the rising fear and anxiety and took a deep breath, drawing back the curtain and walking over to the lifeless brunette, tears clouding my vision. I had expected her to look different, to be hooked up to machines, but my images were nothing like the scene playing out in front of me. _

_She had 9 different IV bags hooked up to the entourage of needles penetrating her greyish-white arm, and tubes coming from both her nose and mouth. Her eyes were closed, and she looked so serene under the fluorescent lights. If it were possible to ignore the needles, tubes, and monitors, you would assume she was resting comfortably. Sitting beside her, I took her fragile hand into my own and stroked it gently, "You've really given us a scare, don't you ever do that again." _

_I gave her hand a soft squeeze and whispered, "I've been horrible to you...over and over again...you don't deserve that. You have to pull through, you've got tons of people out here waiting for you to wake up. You've got tons of people who wouldn't know what to do if we lost you. I guess what I've been wanting to say since I got here...I'm sorry."_

_I stood, releasing her hand and wiping a tear from my eye. "I'm going to go now, you just concentrate on recovering."_

_I walked away from the room, not ashamed in the slightest to have been talking to an unconscious person. Experts believe that talking to people in a coma can bring them out of it, just as communicating with your premature baby can help them thrive. In the waiting room, our entire team was still seated on the hard plastic chairs. _

_The blank expressions on their faces matched mine, and as I scanned the room, Greg motioned for me to sit next to him. I sat down with a heavy sigh. _

"_What are you thinking?" Greg asked, "How did she seem to you?"_

_I hesitated, not wanting to tell Greg that she looked like something we'd see in the morgue. Instead, I replied with, "The nurses say she's showing some improvement."_

"_If she's improved, I don't want to imagine what she looked like before. She looks like she should be on a table with Doc Robbins." Greg replied dryly, "I can't believe this is really happening."_

"_I know." I replied softly, "When do you think the doctor will be back?"_

_Greg shrugged, suddenly seeming a lot older than his young years. "He just said he'd be back with an update, he didn't tell us when. Do you think we'll catch whoever did this?"_

"_Ecklie's shift may be working it, but we're still the number two lab in the country. We solve impossible cases every day. This time it's personal. We have to find whoever did this to Sara, it's not an "if", it's a "when". And when we do..."_

"_I want to get my hands on him." Greg said coldly, clenching his fists angrily, "Sara didn't deserve this."_

"_No, she didn't." I replied, trying to find some maternal words to comfort him, but failing miserably. I was about to invite him to take a walk with me, to get some fresh air, but before I could get the words out, her doctor walked into the room, wearing a solemn expression. _

_--_

_Her funeral was held on a Monday morning, the sky overcast and the wind blowing softly. Nick, Warrick, Grissom, Greg, and I stood around her casket, each dropping a single white rose as they began to shovel dirt onto the shiny wooden surface. _

_Greg silently turned away, walking back towards his car without a second glance to the rest of us. I watched as Nick and Warrick exchanged concerned glances, Greg had been pulling away from all of us since that last day at the hospital. He and Sara had been close, I'm still not sure how close, but it was clear that he was barely dealing with this tragedy. _

_I squeezed Grissom's hand, he looked nearly as bad as Greg did, and motioned towards my SUV, "Brass is interrogating Walker in about half an hour. We still have time to get there."_

_Jeffery Walker, we had learned, was Ecklie's team's only suspect. Ecklie had been generous enough to call Grissom and let him know that Walker was going to be brought in this morning. It had been one of the few favors the man had done for us over the last few days. _

_Warrick and Nick moved to where Grissom and I were standing, both dazed and grief stricken. I hadn't seen Warrick look this bad since the night Holly Gribbs had been shot on his watch. Actually, that was nothing compared to the misery on his face today. It was indescribable. _

_I almost felt like a traitor. Sara and I hadn't been close. They had obviously shared something that the brunette and I didn't share, and every once and awhile it felt like I was intruding on their private painful ceremony. _

_Nick decided he was going to come to the interrogation with us while Warrick went to check on Greg, and in a tense silence, Nick, Gil, and I rode back to the police station. _

_The moment I spotted Walker, I knew he did it. Grissom taught us not to rely on gut instincts, but there was no way of suppressing it this time. Looking at Nick, I could tell he felt the same way. _

_Sure enough, the first thing Nick said was, "He did it."_

"_They don't have enough evidence to prove that." Grissom replied automatically, although it was clear that his heart wasn't into it today. "Ecklie's going to be sitting in with Brass."_

"_They should let one of us in there." I said quietly, "She was one of ours."_

"_She wasn't a possession--" Nick began to say, but was cut off when the speakers kicked on in the viewing room. _

_Brass's voice filled the air, "Did you know a Sara Sidle?"_

"_No."_

"_Your fingerprints were in her apartment. Are you sure you didn't know her?" Brass asked, his voice hardening. _

_Walker shrugged, spitting on the floor and crossing his arms, "You tell me."_

"_I think you knew her. I think you killed her. I want to know why." Ecklie said, pushing Sara's case folder in front of himself, "Your prints were in her apartment and you had access to the chemical that killed her."_

"_I'd do it again, if I had the chance. Bitch put my brother away for life. Eye for an eye, you know? And if you try to lock me away, you're next."_

_Watching as they led him down the hall to lockup, I couldn't help but feel disappointed. After Eddie's murder got away, I felt like I would have had more peace knowing who did it, knowing they were behind jail. Now, I could see I was wrong. I knew who did it, I heard him confess, I watched him being dragged away in handcuffs, and it changed nothing. _

_We are all able to be touched by violence, it doesn't matter if you wear a badge or sit behind a desk. It doesn't matter if you carry a gun or a pocket protector. People prey on innocent people, people who don't deserve to be hurt, people who only try to do the best for the world. _

_Of all the losses the graveyard shift of the Las Vegas Crime Lab had suffered, this was the worst. _

_With an angry sigh, I walked out into the parking lot, lighting a cigarette for the first time in ten years. We lost a member of our family, over something so stupid. It was sickening. It was a nightmare. It was life. _

_The End._


End file.
